Tetris A Short Story About Boredom
by Akerjlg Ashie
Summary: My first ever attempt at a FanFic... Thought I'd try and be original


Tetris: A Short Story About Boredom  
  
The Devil Makes Use Of Idle Hands Is it just me, or is it whenever you are so mind numbingly bored the whole world seems to just freeze out of spite? You can just sit and wait staring into space waiting for your patience to wear thin, and you've only just been able to fill about two minutes. It seems weird I know, but still, it happens to me a lot. Maybe I'm just not a very patient person? But I swear that is what happens to me. Hopefully, there is a small selection of you out there who feel the same, that way we could start a support group. 'Coping with Boredom' is what I'd call it and once every month we'd all meet up at someone's house, twiddle our thumbs for a few hours, talk about how dull we've found things then go home. It sounds like a good idea to me, well, right now it does. As the story I am about to share with you left me feeling like going out there and actually starting that group up.  
  
Giving In To Temptation It was a normal English early summer's afternoon; the weather was reasonable but the temperature was awfully humid, the type I can't stand. Skies were clear and blue and reached out to the ends of forever and back again and all that nonsense. Outside it seemed that the birds where holding their own 'Lets see who can make the most noise' competition which seemed to annoy only me at the time. Other than that, my little estate seemed quite empty really. I didn't really take this as some sort of bizarre activity, no one really sets foot outside their houses here only if there is any real reason too. Frankly, no one did. All in all, a typical lazy day.  
  
I was slouched over an armchair nearest the main window in my living room watching dust slowly perform its own inaccurate version of The Nutcracker just below one of the lights that hang from the ceiling. Sunlight drove through the window onto my face, warming it slightly as sunlight often does. Add to this the uncomfortable warmth of the general atmosphere made everything slowly dissolve in to 'sleepy mode'; me especially. My leg hung over one of the arms of the chair and dangled lifelessly in mid air, gently swaying from time to time if I felt bothered to move. I had officially left college see and was awaiting my results from the course. I think I took the 'waiting' ideology way too deeply. So, there I was watching this speck of dust flopping around the air like some drunken fish in a Jacuzzi. It levitated up, slightly headed to the right then moved down in a forwards arc sort of direction. It twisted and turned underneath the fabricated tassels of the light shade like a rollercoaster that wouldn't make up its mind where it wanted to go. I found all this awfully hypnotising and followed it with my eyes with the concentration of a calligrapher writing on a pin head. I often made bets with myself about where it would go. 'Any second now it'll go to the right then swoop over to the left then drop, just you see..' I'd often think but dusk is a stubborn creature, doesn't really do what it's told. Out of spite it would drop, spinning to the left then make a drastic mid-air U turn and end up higher than when it started the manoeuvre. Soon though, I found this actually rather tiresome so I shifted my body weight onto my left side so I could get a decent view of the clock positioned at the other side of the room. Squinting to se the fingers gracefully caressing its face at a slow and almost painful speed, I was mildly cross at what the clock had given me. "Ten minutes past one. Geez." I had woken up at 9am that morning, watched mindless children's television while taking in breakfast which consisted of two crumpets lightly buttered; the week's motif. After some time I ran upstairs for a bath and washed my hair with some herbal rubbish that never seems to give me odd orgasmic moments like the woman with the dubbed American accent on the television advert (Weird that) and generally got dressed. Then after fiddling with deodorants until I felt up to hanging out washing and vacuuming the house from top to bottom and bottom to top just for the Hell of it, time seemed to slip away from my grasp. Meaning I had a serious case of 'House Lag'. Similar to Jet Lag I suppose, but House La is when you suddenly have time vanish on you, only for your physical body to decide and slow everything right down for you to catch up. A House Lag minute can last for hours and I had been watching the dust with subtle artistic flair for three minutes, that's the equivalent of approximately three to five hours. And for those of you who would have preferred a simpler solution to that, I was 'well bored'.  
  
Annoyed at time for being a finicky little so and so, I needed something to pass the time. Something that could catch the attention of an over excited Alsatian with two bones to pick from. It needed razzle, dazzle and lots of other silly words that I could think of to describe it. It needed the complexity of trying to get a twin fuel injector jet propulsion engine to run on happy thoughts yet the simplicity of a boiled egg. I wasn't asking for a lot in other words. So, glancing about the room I tried to fulfil my quest for such a thing. Numerous things came to mind like television. For me television is a waking up tool, the only time I properly use it is in the morning, wrapped in numerous bed sheets wondering where on earth I was. Books were questioned too, but my mind had fallen asleep and less use than garlic flavoured bubblegum. Plus words were far beyond my mental reach right now, I had been fascinated with a dust particle for a while after all. Then I saw it. A small rectangular oblong, aqua in colour, sitting besides a newspaper left by the almost dead sofa and half a glass of orange juice I only just remembered was mine from breakfast. It just lay there, flat on its plastic back almost as if it wanted me to find it. Without even thinking whether to bother to think about moving I collapsed out of my chair and scuffled over to the item in question. A beam of light shone through the patio windows at the far end of the room, the blinds to it we're partially open, causing a beam of light to surround my new found oracle of boredom destroyer. To make the scene even more cliché I swear I could hear a choir singing. But no matter, I soon learched over and picked up my prize like an infant would an oversized toy. I knew what I held in my hands instantly, it took my mind a few seconds after to realise I had found its saviour. It was my Gameboy. Bought a few years ago from a dodgy looking man in the canary islands who made me sign a contract saying I had never bought the product from him and in fact seen him before. I didn't understand why he did that at the time, I was a tourist after all and not up to date with their culture. I stood their for a moment holding the games machine in my hands like I'd just given birth to the thing and named it after my great grandfather. Heaven came with a dot matrix screen.  
  
And That's When I Fell In Love With It Slowly realising I had to go back to my air chair haven, my feet already made the decision and I was sat cross legged holding the handheld device lightly in both hands. It was my baby after all and it was blessed with my great grandfather's name. I blankly stared at the screen that seemed to dominate the whole plastic casing. Grey like a horrible winter morning on a Skegness beach after your first ever girlfriend, the one you loved so dearly and never wanted to let go of, has left you for scarecrow. A sort of ashy grey really. There was a tiny piece of colour in this sea of LCD; a fingerprint. Probably my own at that. It floated there off centre of the screen, not too big but frustratingly noticeable. It seemed to ooze red, green and blue. Though, thinking about it, it was only the DPI. In this time, about a minute or so, that's one to two hours House Lag time, I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't achieve anything if I sat here just staring at the piece of junk. Lovingly, I slid my finger down the left hand side of the aqua casing and slipped the power switch 'on'. For some reason, anticipation rose from my feet and quickly travelled up my legs and flooded my chest with one of those tight feeling when you know something is about to happen. I didn't understand why though, it was only a game after all. Just some harmless fun. But still, the fact that boredom would be instantly washed away and I would be cleansed with a greater good that was 8 bit or so (I don't really know, I'm a nerd not a geek) or memory and analogue sound effects. And so, I reached video game nirvana as I realised what was actually in my machine. Tetris; it was a sign from a higher being. Well, the guy that created it anyway and the good folk in Japan who made all this possible of course. But regardless of that, I knew I was saved from anything boredom could throw at me. And so, I began playing. After strategically choosing what backing music I shall have played in a constant loop throughout playtime, I was ready. I could take on the world now, as long as they threw funny shaped blocks at me for a few minutes or so. I set to work, like some master craftsman I place those bricks so close they didn't know what hit them, or do I mean 'stacked them'? I bashed buttons with such precise I could tell you what was going where, why and when it'd get there. Placing the occasional long thing block vertically at the sides of the screen enclosing the others in tight formation that would make fighter pilot captains look like disorganised fools flying moths headed towards a lighthouse. Making an impressive move with an L shape block and a square one, I was able to destroy a few lines, which made me feel kind of nice. If I had the money, I would have bought some cheerleaders. My eyes moved from space to space, trying to find a brick that would fill it and resolving in more lines leaving the area of play. My fingers moved like a greased, paranoid, caffeine fuelled, stealth, ninja tom cat wearing rocket powered roller blades. I was the king of pixcellated video escapism. With bells on. However, unknown to your humble yet rather sad-but-hopefully-in-a- good-way narrator and main character in this egotistical one man story, writing this in the early hours with one mother of a twitch eye, all good things must come to an end.  
  
The Decline There I was: me, the game, no cheerleaders and half a glass of morning orange juice, racking up serious points, more that what the Eurovision could throw at any one country when suddenly, it all went wrong. I had cleared most of my screen and was left with a gaping hole in the middle of my screen with a clump of left over brick in one corner. I was fairly cool at the situation and was possibly wondering if it'd be OK to go back to dust watching again when unbeknownst to my active mental state, I got a straight brick. It just appeared from no where, and began to ever so slowly creep from the top of the screen like a rain drop from a window. This didn't bother me; my line score was in triple digits, why should I care? So I placed this one brick to the side and left it all by its lonesome, that'll teach it to come at a rather relaxed time. Another square brick came down followed by a T shape, then a straight one. Ironic that the game gives me two straight bricks ten minutes after I needed them; maybe it only just heard my cursing? So, I positioned that to the side again, got another line, I smiled a small smile. More like a smirk, but it felt good in a strange 'I don't get out much, eh?' sort of way. A few more pointless shapes fell down and eventually yet another straight one. Alarm bells rang in my head. "Three straight bricks! Three in a row!" they said "Something's up here." I couldn't help but listen. They had a point too. I began to panic. Hat was I going to do? Another straight one won't ruin everything, but it'll mess up one little area as I'm running out of room. Maybe the game is actually turned on me? What if it has, what then? Go running to Mum and Dad tearful? What?  
  
Another straight block appeared, and I was desperate. In a sudden rush of panic I choked and placed it in the wrong place. I swore like a sailor and drew my eyes closer to the action. There was only one way I could get out of this mess, and that was with an S brick. If I had one of those, and rammed it into the side of one area, it'd cause a line combo so big they'd feel it in Australia. I glared hard at the screen, its ill glow lit up areas of my face causing it to shadow in the most eerie of ways. If I could have help my hands in prayer I would have, but they were too preoccupied right now. I would have prayed to the God Of Weird S Shaped Bricks: 'Oh please, humble lord' I would have started 'Please send down an S brick from the sky, make it rain S bricks and I would bathe in the glory of a big line combo and I would honour it to you! Dear, sweet God on high.' Nothing to extreme, you know. Just grovel at his feet for a bit until he finally submits to my whining. I didn't think it would have worked though. No S brick appeared. I was worried. Very worried. Other blocks came, and they piled up. I held them back bravely, I tell you that. But it was no use. The game decided to turn around, spit in my face, laugh, steal my first girlfriend off that scarecrow who in turn would blame me and beat me within an inch of my life. I have never trusted scarecrows. But that's not important. What's important was that I had no S brick, and my screen was filling up. I tried as fast and as hard as I could. I really did, but it was in vain. Like the counting down of New Year's, my days were numbered. The screen filled and the game made its last patronising funny noise. I hung my head in shame. Beaten. How could I lose, to such a thing? A piece of plastic jammed into a bigger piece of nicely coloured plastic. It didn't even have opposable thumbs. I did, but they could not tame the beast that was the game. Accepting my ordeal like a man I typed in my name to indicated I scored the best so far, then I switched it off. I felt like collapsing on my chair, dropping the game to the floor and whispering: "Rosebud." I didn't though due to numerous copyright laws, and that'd be no fun on my account. So I just placed the thing neatly on the floor beside my chair slouched and sighed. I was once again bored. I had failed. I tilted my head back in despair, I could see the post mission paperwork: Mission Failed. Subject Demoted. I had brought shame upon my family, my home, my country, my planet would be too over the top so I won't say it. Staring up at the ceiling again, I noticed an old friend; the dust particle. Floating happily above my head. It zoomed towards the window and crashed bit soon recovered. And so I retired to watching it dance for me again once more. Until my patience wore thin again of course. 


End file.
